


This New, New York

by Tish



Category: Twilight Zone
Genre: Gen, Post-Episode: S02E18 The Odyssey of Flight 33, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:09:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5479376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a sleek, modern jet liner. It was meant to arrive in New York on a pleasant mid-afternoon, but this time, New York was reached via a detour through the Twilight Zone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This New, New York

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertVixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/gifts).



The flash, the juddering, the moment when the stomach drops. It was getting to be a habit by now. Wyatt adjusted his headphones and listened. Any sound would do, even the white noise of a misaligned crystal radio set.

Purcell's report on the fuel situation was a distressingly low figure. Time to pilot her down or else.

Captain Farver nodded curtly and picked up the phone to the galley. “Janie, we have no choice but to land. Get ready for final cabin check.”

Janie's voice came back soothing and professional, with only an undercurrent of stress. “Understood. Good luck.” 

Farver clicked a switch and opened the comm for yet another announcement. “Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be landing shortly. Please assist the stewardesses in stowing away loose items and be ready. I won't lie when I tell you we have no idea what to expect. I hope to speak to you all again when we're safely on the ground.”

 

Farver replaced the phone set and looked at his crew. They all silently nodded their readiness and trust in him. Seat belts, landing lights, gear ready. He flexed his fingers around the control column and started the descent.

It was Craig who spotted it first, hands already on the thrust controls as he cried out. “Traffic 3 o'clock! Pitch down! Pitch down!”

Farver nodded and increased his descent as the biggest plane any of them had ever seen in their lives screamed up towards them. Wyatt stared in horror as the two turbines with their hypnotic swirl patterns filled the window barely above their ears. Resisting the instinct to duck, he had a sense that the huge bird had increased its ascent in the brief, terrifying glimpse they'd had as the plane's underside livery contrasted with the blue of the sky before it slipped away overhead.

 

For their part, the flight crew of the A-380 gave silent thanks to Allah and science as TCAS guided them away from a collision. The first officer peered back and prayed for the safety of the smaller plane, wondering who still flew 707s these days. They'd be having words with air traffic control about the sudden incursion into their flight path.

 

Magellan finally spoke. “Are we okay?”

Farver let out a sigh, “Yes. At least it wasn't another dinosaur. I-” A sudden shaking cut him off and he gripped the controls.

Craig muttered, “Oh no, not again!”

Farver snapped. “No! This is different, no flash, no speed sensation, it's like turbulence, like in a storm.” He pumped on the rudder slightly. “There, that seems to be getting it.”

The pounding in Wyatt's ears had receded enough to hear something come through on the radio. A woman's voice seemed to be calling them, and he wondered if Janie or another stewardess were calling on the intercom, but then his mind focused on what she was saying.

He adjusted a setting and almost wept with joy. “Idlewild, Idlewild. This is Global 33, come in, please!”

An annoyed and puzzled voice replied. “Unknown traffic, this is Kennedy approach control. Identify yourself and hold your altitude.”

“Kennedy?” Wyatt frowned as he repeated the woman. “Miss, this is Global 33. We need to land right now. We have 82 souls on board, and we're running low on fuel.” Wyatt exchanged glances with Craig, who shook his head.

“We don't have maps for that airport.” Craig shuffled through the folder. 

“Better hope it's actually Idlewild we're looking at, otherwise we'll have to wing it.” Farver interjected, busy with landing prep.

The air traffic controller cut in again. “Global 33, we don't have your transponder signal, radar only. Are you declaring a fuel emergency?”

“Global 33. Yes, ma'am.” Wyatt looked over at Purcell as he rechecked his board.

“Okay, Global 33. We're gonna take you and turn you straight onto the runway, sir. Wind is 170 at 25, ground contact at 121.5. We have 23L clear for you. Emergency services are on standby. Heading 165. Cleared to land at your convenience. Good luck.” The ATC's voice came in clear and precise.

Craig jotted down the details on his notepad and nodded at Farver.

Farver opened his mic and replied. “Global 33. Thank you, tower. See you soon.”

 

In the main cabin, Janie sat with Paula, professional faces on, stomachs tense. They'd all seen the other plane as they'd descended, there was no denying it. Too far back, now too far forwards. Janie watched the faces of her passengers, some stricken with fear, some stoic and passive. The elderly woman in 12A was to have met her newborn grand-daughter for the first time. Would she be a schoolgirl now, in college, a mother, a grandmother herself? She thought of her own mother and her sister, would she get a chance to hand them their shared birthday presents? 

She caught the eye of the RAF officer and his slight nod sent a wave of warmth and reassurance through her. She glanced down at the armrest and saw Paula's white-knuckled grip on it, gently she placed her own over Paula's and squeezed.

 

On the flight deck, Wyatt pondered the new reality. Judging by what he'd seen out the cockpit window, technology had advanced by leaps and bounds. Would there even be a high-tech version of Brylcreem for his hair? He thought of what that lady air traffic controller might look like and would she possibly be available for dinner? He chuckled silently at himself, already used to the new now.

Farver kept an eye on his instruments as he aligned the plane. Re-fuel and get back up there, that was his plan. They weren't meant to be here, well, not _now_. He wondered if landing would jinx the whatever the heck it was that got them here in the first place. The fuel situation and a altitude reading from Craig brought Farver back to earth, or at least a few hundred feet above it. He thought of his passengers and his crew, but especially Janie. He wanted to do something to make up for landing her here, and searched his memory for that little Italian place with the gnocchi from the gods.

“Magellan” Hatch craned his neck to get a good view. All the maps and compasses in the world couldn't chart their course into this new, New York.

 

In an FAA office, a man sifted through old company folders. The phone call he'd just got was the craziest thing he'd ever heard, but still, he had to do his job and check it out. He wasn't sure he'd really believe it until he saw that plane for himself.

Bankruptcy notices, maintenance records, schematics. All that linked the lost plane to the world fitted into some dusty boxes. Apart from the plane-spotters, there were still a few family members who remembered that day so long ago when their world changed from certainty, to hope and yearning, and then a sad final acceptance.

 

In the control tower, a man stood with binoculars as the metal bird came in, sunlight glinting off the unpainted metal frame. The ATC sat back in her chair and watched her scope, these last few minutes were everything a controller feared about the job, but exactly what they were trained to handle. She ran through the chain of events, the sudden radar return, so close to the departing A-380, the frantic calls to the interloper, and that damned weird reference to Idlewild. That would be one hell of a report to make out. She turned her eyes to the window and locking eyes with the supervisor with the binoculars, silently offered a prayer.  
The plane seemed so fragile and small against the modern jets, and they both found themselves willing it down to safety.

 

The buildings of Manhattan shone in the sunlight as they banked for final approach.  
Some landmarks were reassuringly familiar, and the sight of the Chrysler Building lifted Janie's spirits, others like the two gleaming towers were astonishing as they reached towards the blue sky. Janie searched her memory for the time it would take to develop and build such feats of engineering as graceful tall towers or huge airliners that looked like giant geese.

Thump. Thump.  
Wheels down on the ground.

 

She was a sleek, modern jet liner, on a routine voyage from London to New York. She took a detour through the Twilight Zone and entered a bright new world.

And what bright new world had they entered? Would the people now be any wiser, any gentler than in 1961. Had they channelled their passions and talents into helping their fellow human beings, or would there still be ugly stains behind the beauty? Would they help them return? Could they, even?


End file.
